


Elemental

by aftertherayn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Co-workers, Earth, Elements, F/M, Fire, Fluff, Ministry of Magic, Not Epilogue Compliant, Training, Water, air
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-15 05:16:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9220271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aftertherayn/pseuds/aftertherayn
Summary: The four elements, fire, water, earth, and air, applied to Draco and Hermione's relationship.





	1. Fire

**Author's Note:**

> For the New Beginnings challenge on the slytherdornet tumblr. Short, minimalist, and gentle.

It was five years after the war. Hermione Granger found herself surprised that, after years of constant vigilance, overworking her brain, and racing alongside the famous Harry Potter, her notorious fire had finally begun to die down. She claimed a successful position in the Ministry that she knew she had earned, she coaxed Harry and Ginny towards marriage until he finally proposed, she and Ron mutually broke up to find more suitable partners. 

After so many years of being different—being special—she finally realized that underneath all the situations and catastrophes that led her to the fame she lived with, she was just an ordinary witch. It had been a long time since she last felt engulfed in the flames that carried her through the war. She reminded herself daily that this was a good thing, that she had given up the privilege of a normal seven years at Hogwarts in order to obtain this normalcy.

It was a hard sell.

In truth, Hermione was kind of bored. Her prestigious position in International Magical Cooperation, while enough to keep her occupied, was a desk job with an obscene amount of paperwork. As no one felt very inclined to deny her things, because her glare would wither even the most virile of men, she could get away with passing nearly anything without any repercussions, even if it were the stupidest thing she could think of. 

Her love life was at a stand still. She’d gone on a few dates with random wizards Ginny had set her up with that had ended in one night stands, nothing fulfilling and nothing that led to the emotional connection she so craved. Frankly, if she met another man who spent two hours gushing about how blessed he felt to be in the presence of a war heroine, she was going to marry Crookshanks.

She wanted nothing more than a restart. Sometimes she wished she could do-over Hogwarts. Of course, she knew how blessed and loved she was across the Wizarding World. But sometimes, she wished she didn’t have to give up so much of herself in order to do what she had. Sometimes, she felt as though she couldn’t let go from it and couldn’t move past the 17-year-old vigilante she had been. But she couldn’t decide if she wanted that brand of excitement, of fire, back, or if she just wanted a normal life, with normal friends, and normal, average talent…and those questions were what made her feel so unsatisfied. 

* * *

 

Seeing Draco Malfoy for the first time since the Final Battle was jarring. He simply appeared in the office one day, while she was sorting documents, as though he hadn’t been gone for five years, as though he was just some ordinary man with an ordinary place in her world. He was talking to her boss, reserved, respectful, almost demure. It was a stark change from the last glimpse she had seen of him—the fearful boy huddled with his parents, unable to belong anywhere. The tabloids hadn’t kept up with his family from what she could tell, noting only that Harry had given testimony to prove that they did not deserve to rot in Azkaban. The last she had heard, the elder Malfoy had Narcissa by his side as they built their name back up from the ground.

It was with this in mind that she steeled herself to the fact that Malfoy and her boss were walking towards her office. She begged herself to remember that she had matured, that any hatred she’d had was no longer relevant because she was no longer the over-emotional, vulnerable girl that was so wounded by his constant bullying. There was nothing that could come out of his mouth at this point in her life that could shock her, because the hard walls that she had built up around herself were certified pain-proof.

She heard a knock. “Come in,” she said, feeling a strange sense of build up for something that was supposed to be inconsequential.

Alicia Spinnet walked in, leaving Malfoy outside. “Hermione. I have a new trainee for you this morning. Draco Malfoy. His application was accepted last week and he’s to have a two week training and trial period to see if he is compatible with the office.”

“Ah. And I am to be training him?” Hermione asked, as though the answer was not completely obvious. She maintained forced eye contact with Alicia, fastidiously ignoring the blond wizard that was floating near her doorway.

“Yes. You will see him through the next two weeks, give him a basic understanding of what our department does, how a standard day passes, and what his duties would be as your employee,” Alicia responded.

“My employee, Alicia?”

“As the most recent employee, though I don’t know how four years can still be considered recent, all the drudge work that falls to you can now be reallocated to him, if you so desire. With Graves having left us two months ago, I know your workload has increased exponentially,” Alicia responded, in her no-nonsense way.

Hermione sighed. “Very well then. Leave him to me, and I’ll see how it goes.”

Alicia laughed. “I know you have a history. Don’t kill him, Hermione.”

Hermione sighed again, even more deeply. “I’ll try.”

With that, Alicia left the room and allowed Malfoy to come in, while Hermione stared down the piece of paper in front of her to prolong the coming of the inevitable.

There was an elegant clearing of the throat, and then, “Hello, Miss Granger.” It wasn’t a drawl, it didn’t sound condescending, it didn’t even sound mean. It knocked the wind out of Hermione’s proverbial sails.

She looked up, to meet his eyes. It began the same way she suspected the world did: with an explosion. The feeling was new, and foreign, but familiar at the same time, and completely exhilarating; the singular moment she caught his gaze lit a brand new flame, engulfing her. His softly smirking lips stoked the fire and his icy grey eyes left a burn within her, she was completely captivated. She felt fire again, for the first time in ages. It was positively breathtaking.


	2. Water

_Water_

Working with Draco Malfoy meant that Hermione had to be relatively adaptable, decidedly non-judgmental, and extremely neutral. It also meant that she had to strive for the utmost vicious of professional attitudes, because for some reason she was torn between punching him in the face (but why?! There was no real residual anger, was there?!) or kissing him stupid (was she attracted to him?!). Whatever flame she had felt was obviously not yet extinguished. While she couldn’t exactly place why those were the only two things she felt towards the man, she was working hard to do neither, because he had been nothing short of completely amicable towards her in the first few days of his training. 

This left her understandably confused. She was working hard to have an icy exterior, but every time she made eye contact with him, she melted. They had not yet had a conversation that did not focus exclusively on the work he had to do, but she knew that if they skidded off that safe path, she would be in drowning in deep trouble. So she spoke when she had to, addressed him solely as Mr. Malfoy, and escaped back to her office at the first opportunity. If he seemed phased by this, he did not let on.

…

Draco Malfoy had always, on some level, felt a sort of kinship with Hermione Granger. She was smart, talented beyond her years, constantly striving for something bigger and better. She was known by all but had close friendships with very, very few, she worked hard to get where she was today. He knew that he too, was smart and hard-working, and uneasy with trusting others. After years of learning to let go of prejudice, especially after he had endured years of being shunned and unable to mesh with a society that would not accept him, just as he had not accepted muggleborns in the past, he learned his lesson. Or at least, he did his best. He knew he still had a lot of learning to do. 

This was one of the reasons he had taken on this job. He knew that if there was one person who could teach him about acceptance, it was Hermione, but for the life of him, he could not break the metaphorical ice, especially not the ice she had encased herself with. She was cold but not unfriendly, distant but physically right next to him, and he could not figure out why.

There was of course, the fact that he had been a bigot and bully for seven years of their acquaintance, but she was also the one that had spoken about unity and forgiveness at every Ministry Ball since the war had ended, from what he’d heard. He was getting some mixed signals. So, he maintained his composure and waited for an opening to engage with Granger on a topic that did not concern “The France Accounts,” or “The Minister’s Correspondence With Finland.” (Riveting stuff.) 

Thus, on the fourth day of his training, when he found her sitting in the cafeteria alone with a sad looking sandwich, he decided to join her with his Indian takeout. “Hello, Miss Granger. May I sit?”

…

Hermione was used to eating lunch alone. She didn’t really feel like conversing with people in the half hour that she had away from her work, so she usually took her break in her office. On this day, however, she felt a little stifled, so she decided a change of scenery was in order. She did not think this change would result in having Draco Malfoy appear while she was completely unprepared, attempting a conversation.

“I feel as though we haven’t had the chance to properly speak, although we’ve been working closely together this week,” he said, sitting down after she had given her affirmative. He spoke oddly formally, kind of stiff, as though he was working out the kinks his conversation skills after a long period of inactivity. 

“Uh, yes. Um, that comes with the job I suppose. Er….so…what have you been doing these last five years?” Hermione was grasping for straws, any threads of topics that could possibly fill up an entire 30 minutes. She had a bad feeling they would be running into awkward pauses, and inwardly cursed Malfoy for doing this to her. Why on earth had he wanted to sit with her?! 

“A lot of this, a lot of that. I went away to France for a lot of it with my parents, as they decided to open up a branch of Malfoy Industries there. They’re heading it for now, while the Zabinis take care of the British stronghold,” he answered, giving a good amount of detail without really saying anything at all.

“Oh, I see. Why didn’t you stay there with them, then? It seems you had a perfectly respectable job in your father’s company,” Hermione responded. Her shoulders, which had been previously huddled away from him, slowly shifted, allowing her to face him properly, and she let herself to make more eye contact. 

Malfoy stared down his takeout. “I wanted to do something that wasn’t just handed to me. I kind of wanted to earn something for once instead of blindly following.” 

Hermione coughed. “Oh,” she said, nearly grunting. She felt cracks in her ice cage, as she struggled to find something, anything, that was safer to change the topic to, because Heaven help her, she was _not_ going to have a deep, soul-searching conversation with Draco Malfoy! After a significant pause, Hermione decided that the only thing she could reasonably do was change the topic to the weather. “So, uh, is the climate nicer in France?”

… 

Draco wasn’t sure what to make of the conversation he’d had with Granger over lunch. It felt as though they could have almost had a real conversation, but she’d frozen up again so quickly that any progress he’d made had seemingly been swiftly erased. Being around her felt like playing a calculated game of chess; every move he made could lead to sink or swim.

He’d felt very pleased with himself for a moment, when it felt like with his surprisingly honest answer, he’d made some advancement, especially when he could tell he had elicited a genuine response from her. He hadn’t even meant to say what he had, but he was glad that it had come out of his mouth. He realized he’d made some kind of impression on her. However, all that went away when she began incessantly questioning him on the intricacies of the blasted weather!

He decided that from that moment on, in the next two weeks and beyond, he would work to bring Granger’s barriers down. Why he was so invested in this, past his initial goals of simple friendship, he was not sure. However, if he was as forthcoming and open as the crashing waves of the ocean, he thought to himself, rather poetically, there was no reason for Granger _not_ to engage. He was determined now, albeit still slightly reticent, because he didn’t want to bare himself to her with no reciprocation. It was going to be slightly tricky, but not impossible, he hoped. 

* * *

In the days that followed, up until the day Hermione got to decide his fate in the Ministry, Malfoy did not cease in his attempts at…conversation? Friendship? She had no idea. All she could tell for sure was that she was definitely allowing her guard to come down slowly, from the way that she allowed their conversations to go a little deeper than the weather or the latest work case, and she let herself smile more, divulge bits and pieces of who she had become. Making eye contact with him was still a little difficult, mostly because she did not think becoming a puddle at his feet was quite appropriate. For half an hour, she could just be Hermione, instead of Miss Granger, the swotty professional. She was beginning to think that the side of her that wanted to kiss him was becoming stronger than the side of her that wanted to punch him in the face, which was very worrisome indeed.

Hermione had the power to get rid of him completely, of course, when, about a week and a half after the first lunch, Alicia Spinnet asked her if Mr. Malfoy’s performance was satisfactory. She could have said no, that she didn’t really think they would get along, or he didn’t do the job well, or that she simply didn’t feel comfortable being around him. Alicia would have taken any of these answers at face value and allowed her to let him go. 

However, to her puzzlement, Hermione found herself not wanting Draco Malfoy to go away. Maybe she needed to work through her feelings on that initial spark she felt the day he came in for the first time. Maybe he was a truly satisfactory employee that deserved the job. Maybe, Heaven forbid, she actually _liked_ having him around. She had no idea. But she was damned if she wasn’t going to figure it out!

It was with this in mind that Hermione told Alicia, “I think he’s up to snuff. If you’re for it, you can offer him the full time position. He’s certainly been a help to me these last two weeks.” 

Alicia gave her an uncharacteristic smirk. “Yes, he’s certainly been of use bringing you out of your shell. I’ll let him know. Unless of course, you want to tell him the good news?”

Hermione blanched. “What do you mean? And of course not, you can let him know,” she said, a little shakily.

“Oh come on, Hermione. You’ve spent more time with him this week than you have with any other member of this office. You’ve been married to your job for so long that seeing you outside of the confines of your desk has everyone a little shocked!” Alicia laughed.

Hermione had no response to this that would not make her feel incriminated with a crime she was not sure she had committed. She simply huffed and said, “Well, whatever you say. I’m going to finish filling out some paperwork and go home for the weekend.”

Alicia simply smiled and said, “Have a good weekend, Hermione!”

…

Draco had been overjoyed at receiving the fulltime position. Finally, something that he had earned with his own knowledge and skills! He had no doubt that, no matter Granger’s feelings towards him, he deserved a spot in the Ministry. 

His second thought, to his surprise, was that he’d get to spend every day for an undetermined amount of time hanging out and working closely with Granger. He did not know how he felt about that, except that it made him feel strangely…positive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to portray 'water' in the form of ice, I hope that made sense! And I hope the subtle changes in POV also worked. Hope you enjoyed! :)


	3. Earth

_Earth_

After getting his acceptance, Draco threw himself into his work. Every day was a new challenge, and he delighted in doing well. Granger was quite receptive to his efforts, surprised by that as they both were, and they became a well-oiled machine, finishing paperwork like nobody's business and churning out reports quickly and efficiently. The fact that they shared an office only expedited this process. Alicia Spinnet was very pleased.

"So, Draco, are you enjoying working here? Do you like your colleagues?" Alicia asked him one day.

"Oh yes. It's a perfect fresh start and I'm really quite happy." Draco responded.

Alicia simply "humphed," deep in thought, and walked away, as Draco watched her leave with a rather puzzled look on his face.

Truth be told, it was really Granger who was making the office feel so welcoming. After the initial awkwardness, and after he had convinced her that five years of being on the outskirts of wizarding society was enough to show him that his world views had been painfully incorrect, Granger had decidedly thrown herself into friendship. He was taken aback, but welcomed it. It had been a long time since he'd had a real friend, after all.

* * *

Days passed. Then, weeks passed. He had lunch with Granger almost every day, and they fell into a steady rhythm of working, conversing, even laughing. He came to depend on her in a way, because he could always count on her to verbally spar with, brainstorm ideas with, and just spend time with.

Of course, they'd never met outside of working parameters—he wasn't sure he was quite ready for whatever the implications of _that_ would entail—but they'd created a true friendship from the ground up. Talking to her was just kind of…well, fun. He spent a lot of time recounting his little moments with her, mostly because he'd never really had this with anyone.

"Granger?" he said, breaking a silence that had lasted about an hour.

"Yes, Malfoy?" she responded, barely startled, not even bothering to look up from the files she was looking at.

"I accidentally ripped open the top of this banana. Do you think I can save it by spell-o-taping it up?" he asked her, looking down at the fruit he had wanted to keep as a snack for later.

"I don't think it quite works that way, Malfoy."

"What if I did reparo?"

"Again, I am doubtful that that would work, but you are welcome to try," she responded, so used to his nonsense that she still remained fixed on her files.

She was right, as always, but he found great amusement in bothering her.

Another time, over lunch, "Granger, I have an announcement."

"Yes, Malfoy?"

"I just love babies so much," he proclaimed, rather ostentatiously.

"That's nice. Pity the witch who decides to make one with you, though," she responded, not phased by his strange topic choice.

"I once had a dream that I was laying on the floor and there were just babies crawling up to me, surrounding me. I was in a baby heaven."

She gave him a funny look. "That sounds like a nightmare. Imagine all the diapers that'd need changing, all the crying!"

He glared at her. "Thanks for ruining a beautiful thing, Granger."

She laughed at him and went back to her salad.

…

It wasn't as though Hermione was purposely hiding the fact that Draco Malfoy was working with her in the office. It was just that, she knew that if she told her friends, they'd make her want to dig herself into the ground in an early grave of embarrassment, because they'd make it seem like she was consorting with the enemy. He wasn't even the enemy anymore! She told herself, that if for some weird reason, Harry, Ron, or Ginny had decided to ask if a new member had joined their team, she would be completely forthcoming with information.

Of course, no such serendipitous opportunity was presented, and thus Hermione found herself in the uncomfortable position, two months after she signed off on Draco's assigning, of explaining why he was eating lunch with her so casually to Harry when he decided to pop by to ask for a lunch date.

"Hermione? What is Malfoy doing here? I didn't even know he was in the country!" Harry asked, as he made his way towards their table in the cafeteria. Since Harry was the head of the Auror department, he ate in a different wing, and with his busy schedule he hardly ever found himself in International Cooperation.

Hermione looked up at the familiar voice, frozen. "Oh, uh, well, um, yeah. Malfoy is back in England and he, well he works in my department now, so sometimes we'll eat together if we take a break at the same time…" Hermione trailed off, looking at anything but Harry.

"Now, now Granger, don't shortchange our friendship like that!" Malfoy interrupted with a delighted smirk. He turned to Harry. "I've been working as her assistant of sorts for two and a half months now. We have lunch together almost every day!"

"What do you mean, two and a half months!" Harry exclaimed, turning to Hermione, leaving Malfoy ignored. "You never told me about this! You never told any of us!"

It was at this that Hermione bristled. "We haven't seen each other in ages, Harry! I'm not required to tell you every miniscule detail of my life! We're all so busy with ourselves; none of us has any idea what's going on in anyone's lives. This isn't just _my_ fault!"

Harry seemed taken aback by this. "I'm…I'm sorry Hermione. I didn't mean it like that. But still! Malfoy!"

"This whole situation just didn't seem relevant, Harry. International Cooperation happened to get a new employee. It occurs in every department, all the time. Why should this time require any fanfare?" Hermione sighed, picking up her uneaten sandwich to finish back in her office.

Harry watched her walk away, unsure of whether or not to run after her. Then, something gave him pause. He turned to Draco looking completely baffled, and asked, "Wait. What did you mean by _friendship_?!"

Draco smirked. "You see Potter, when you find yourself going to lunch with someone all the time, working with them closely, and even enjoying the time you spend together, it's called being friends."

"I don't need your damn smart-assery, Malfoy!"

Draco was pleasantly surprised at the outcome of that confrontation, as it seemed as though Hermione was almost _defending_ him. That's what friends did, right? They defended each other when someone decided to say something negative.

One thing struck a funny chord with him, though. Did she basically call him irrelevant?! _Irrelevant?!_ He found that quite implausible, considering over the course of two months she was certainly not irrelevant to _his_ life. (Though that wasn't something he was planning on broadcasting to the world at any point.) He supposed as he had not shared his recent employment to the few acquaintances he could call friends he couldn't really blame her.

However, he could not say his pride was not a little bit wounded.

…

Moments after she left the cafeteria found Hermione at her desk, thinking very deeply about the conversation that had just occurred.

The problem was, for quite a while after Harry and Ginny had gotten engaged, and Ron and Susan Bones had found each other and fallen in love, Hermione felt kind of like a floater. They were all still best friends of course (even after Ron and Hermione's utterly dull, utterly dismal attempt at a relationship), and they would of course always be there for each other. However, being there when it's needed and being there when it's wanted are two very different things, and as such Hermione found herself alone quite frequently.

It was part of the reason she was so devoted to her work, and part of the reason she hadn't pushed away Malfoy immediately upon meeting him. She just wanted someone around to keep her grounded, so that she didn't end up getting lost in the depths of her own mind.

If Malfoy ended up being the only person around to remind her that there was more to the world than her thoughts, then so be it. Beggars weren't choosers, and in this case, having companionship was much better than going back to the pre-Malfoy days of being very lonely and very isolated, a little island in the middle of a vast sea of happy people.

It wasn't her friends' faults that she was this way. She figured they had forgotten how introverted she really was. They were all wrapped up in their own lives, moving forward and moving on from their teenage selves. And besides, she was perfectly capable of being alone. That didn't mean she didn't also want to have a conversation once in a while. It was the only way she didn't retreat into the cavernous depths of her mind, burrowing deep into a hole that she would no longer be capable of digging herself out of.

Perhaps that was why Harry's disapproval of the situation had stung so much. Who was he to criticize the one thing that made her feel natural again? It wasn't as though he had taken up the duty of being her rock.

Wait. Had she just thought of Draco Malfoy…as…her… _rock_?

* * *

"So what are we gonna do for our three month anniversary of being coworkers, Granger? We could order fancy takeout so you don't have to eat your weird sandwiches and salads!" Malfoy asked, on the eve of the third month of his working in the Ministry.

"I don't really think that's the sort of thing someone celebrates, Malfoy. And my food is completely normal!" Granger replied.

"But friendiversarys are important!" he almost whined, but Malfoys did not _whine._

"Friendiversary? That's entirely different from just coworkers, you know. You really shouldn't mislabel relationships."

Draco grinned. "So does that mean you want to celebrate?" he asked, delighted.

Granger simply rolled her eyes and walked away.

What was funny about Draco's relationship with Granger was that he'd found himself incredibly comfortable around her presence. She was completely unperturbed by the silly things he said, and had no reaction to the revealing of his childish personality that had previously remained hidden under years of war. A person usually had to dig deep to find these funny little quirks about him, but with Granger they seemed to spill out, unbound by the normal social conventions of the company he kept.

It had now been three months that they'd been working together, and in those three months neither had found it relevant to talk about anything deeply personal or private. For Draco, who was usually a pensieve of unspeakable secrets, this should have been an okay working relationship. But he found himself longing to share things with Granger that were very much off-limits. Things like, what had really happened to force him to reevaluate his prejudices. How his parents felt about him consorting with a Muggleborn. How sad and pathetic his love life was.

Instead, they stayed with safe topics. How their friends were doing, what they planned on doing for the weekend, the weather, their work cases. Sometimes they'd get wild and talk about their favourite books, albums, or movies. Those were fun conversations. They'd once had a 20-minute fight over whether or not wizarding fiction was better than muggle fiction, and to Granger's surprise he'd had a much more nuanced argument than just, "Muggles are simply inferior to wizards!"

It had taken Granger by even bigger surprise when she realized that Draco had plenty of knowledge about muggle television and film. He noticed that she kept with their unspoken agreement, however, and decided not to press him on the issue and break the ignorantly blissful peace they had. He appreciated it. He supposed if they ever drank together they'd divulge whole treasure chests of secrets, but he'd never seen her touch so much as a Butterbeer in his presence.

It was to his surprise, then, that on one of they days they'd ended up working very late, he returned to the office after a break to find Granger downing Firewhisky like it was her new profession.

…

Hermione felt that she had finally dug herself into a hole she could not climb out of. It had been months since the last time she had kissed a man. It had been two weeks since she last saw her best friends, probably after Harry had relayed her outburst to Ginny and Ron, but it had been brief as Ginny was leaving for a tour with the Holyhead Harpies later that day. It had been a year since she'd last been on a date. It had been two years since she'd last enjoyed something she did for her job.

All in all, she was holding it together quite well for someone who felt like she was completely forgotten by the world, but as everyone knows, it doesn't take much to push someone at the very edge, right over it.

Ron's owl found her hunched over a particularly boring interaction between the French minister and British minister, which she was re-transcribing to be put away in the official files. The owl stretched out his leg, waiting for her to notice him. When no response was forthcoming, the owl hooted softly, jarring her into the present.

"Oh, hello, Pig," she said with a small smile. "What's this you have for me?"

He let her take the fancy looking scroll off his leg, and flew away without waiting for a response.

Hermione looked down at the thick, expensive looking letter, and broke open a rather pretentious seal, to find:

_Susan Amelia Bones and Ronald Bilius Weasley_

_Cordially invite you to attend their wedding on_

_April 26, 2004._

This was, alas, the tipping point. Hermione didn't care about Ron in the romantic sense anymore. She truly wished him all the happiness in the world, and hoped him and Susan would live long, beautiful lives. However, for once in her life, she decided to be selfish and truly bemoan the fact that everyone else had made great progress in their lives while she remained pathetically alone, in the same place she had been a little after the war.

She didn't even make it to the bottom of the scroll before she fished out her emergency Firewhisky and took a gulp straight from the bottle. She would allow herself this one day to forget about her responsibilities and indulge, and tomorrow she would go back to being Hermione Granger, war heroine, golden girl, miss goody-two-shoes.

It was in this sorry state, a third of the way through the bottle, drunk and in tears, that Malfoy found her twenty minutes later.

…

"Granger…what the fuck?" Draco exclaimed, both shocked at seeing her in such a state but also quite intrigued.

"Don't curse at me, Malfy! I'm a grown woman! I'm oooold! I can do WHATEVER I want!" Granger was slurring, sleepy, mostly conscious, and quite terrifying, to be honest.

"Um. What exactly has you in this state, Granger?" Draco was moving towards her slowly, trying not to scare her into throwing the bottle at his head, as she looked rather volatile.

"Everyone! Everyone I know! Is gonna…they gonna get married! MARRIED! They're… happy with their job. THEY'RE DOIN SOME GREEEAAAT THINGS!" she took a pause to sniffle. "Me…I'm just…here….sad…alone. I'm never gonna have a boyfriend probably…I think some boy I went on a date with once called me fffrumpy. I don't wanna be frumpy. I wanna be pretty. But I guess I'll never be, huh Malfy? Do you think I'm preeettty?" Granger was rambling.

Draco did not know how to approach this situation.

Granger continued to look at him expectantly, as if waiting for a response that Draco did not know how to give.

"Granger… _Hermione_ … I think I have to take that bottle from you before I answer any questions," he finally said, gently yanking it away from her.

"So that means youuuu don't think I'm PRETTY! You're HORRIBLE Malfy! Just horrible!" she was beginning to wail, to Draco's extreme alarm.

"No, no, it's not that! You're very pretty, Granger, really!" he quickly amended, sitting down in front of her.

"YOU'RE ONLY SAYING THAT CUS YOU HAAAVE TO! GO AWAY MALFY I JUST WANNA BE ALOOONE!" She was well and truly wailing now, and Draco immediately cast a muffliato at her door.

He ignored everything she'd just said, uncomfortable with the feelings it was rousing in him. "But what is _wrong,_ Granger?" he tried again, patiently.

"I TOLD YOU! I AM ALOONE AND SAD AND EVEN WEIRD OLD RON IS GETTING MARRIED!" she said, shoving the wedding invitation at him.

Looking down at the scroll, he asked, "This can't possibly be the reason you're so upset. You don't still have feelings for the weasel do you?" Draco wasn't even sure why he cared.

At, this she immediately stopped sniffling. "OF COURSE NOT! We suited each other about as WELL as a DINGBAT and a WILD BOAR!" she said, and Draco had the good sense not to comment on the strangest analogy he'd ever heard.

"Okay, okay. How about I get you home, Granger? We've been working pretty late anyway." Draco was realizing that she was not going to be fit to interact with other humans at any point soon.

"YOUUUU don't know where I live!" her voice was lowering in octave with every word. "And I don't really think I should be appa—apparating anywhereeee…." She said this while gazing up at the ceiling, tracing imaginary things with her fingers, her eyelids slowly drooping.

Draco sighed, and took her hand. "Time for bed, Granger," he said firmly, and apparated them to his flat before she could utter a single word of protest.

...

Granger fell asleep immediately after her head hit the pillow, leaving Draco quite amused at the fact that she was such a lightweight.

But he knew, that if she woke up and remembered anything, she would probably smother herself if she were alone, the situation not made much better by the fact that she was in _Draco Malfoy's_ guest room. So, he picked up a book entitled _Mother Nature: How Science and the Natural World Interact with Magic_ , pulled up an armchair, and waited for the firewhisky to pass through her system, ever resilient in his diligent, watchful care.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a little longer than my usual, and I hope it made sense! I can tell that my connection to the elements is slowly fading, but I hope it still doesn't feel contrived. Hope the story isn't going in too bizarre of a direction, but I'm honestly just having some fun with it, if you can't tell-drunk Hermione is so amusing to write! Leave a comment if you enjoyed (or didn't, all thoughts are good), it keeps me going :) Much love!


	4. Air

_Air_

When Hermione awoke, it was in a pleasantly warm bed, with an unpleasantly pounding hangover. She shifted in the bed, yawning slowly. However, she could not and would not open her eyes to the world, because as far as she was concerned, until she could stop the jackhammering on her head, there was no use to adding _more_ sensation to her overwrought senses. 

Until, of course, her sense of hearing was called to action by the voice of someone she did not expect to hear.

“I was starting to think you’d died, Granger. You’ve been asleep for nearly 12 hours. The only reason I knew you were alive was because your snore is the sound of a small lion’s roar.”

Hermione’s eyes flew open, her body shooting up. “Malfoy?!”

Malfoy raised his eyebrows, amused. “Yes, hello there.”

“Where…where am I? What time is it? What happened last night?" 

“Well, Granger, you’re in my flat and it’s about 10am. You decided to get hopelessly trashed in the office last night. Not too responsible of you, might I add, but very amusing nonetheless. I’ll never forget the image of you demanding I call you pretty,” he responded, chuckling.

Hermione looked mortified. “I…I what?”

Malfoy continued to laugh to himself. “You heard me. You also referred to me as ‘Malfy’ and told me you were going to die alone and sad.”

“Oh Merlin… this is why I don’t drink!! Oh God! And what was I…” Hermione thought for a moment. “Oh goodness! All this because of Ron’s wedding invitation? Oh gods!” With that, Hermione sprang out of bed, grabbed her wand, and apparated out of Malfoy’s apartment, with a rushed “Thank you for the bed!” as she vanished.

…

Draco stared at the spot she had just vacated, sorting through the conflicting feelings she had left in her wake. He hadn’t slept very well in the armchair he’d been positioned in, and was beginning to feel some aches in his back.

He was fairly sure there would be some fallout for the madness that had ensued, but for now that wasn’t his problem. He’d deal with Granger when she inevitably came back after overthinking everything to oblivion. Until then, he padded to his room to take a nap.

* * *

After drinking her weight in water and hangover potions, Hermione pulled herself together to figure out the nonsense that she had indulged in over the course of the last night. She didn’t have a very strong memory of what happened and she didn’t really want to find out, but she had a feeling that it was important to her relationship with Draco Malfoy for her to figure out the things she had done.

First, she was at a loss as to what her relationship with him _was._ They had to be considered friends now. To be honest, with the amount of time they spent together, they could almost be best friends! That alone was a little shocking to her, though it didn’t concern her as much as she thought it should.

The problem was, she had no idea how he was feeling, or if she meant anything to him at all. Of course, he had his weird display in front of Harry that one time, and he never really left her side, and he had taken her to his home and she had barely thanked him for it… 

Oh Merlin. She should really thank him for what he had done for her. If he had left her alone, she’d have been absolute toast in the office. Gossip didn’t spread very far in her area of work—probably the reason why no one had appeared to snoop on her and Malfoy—but that didn’t mean people wouldn’t judge her for having a breakdown over something as insignificant as a wedding invitation.

She was still working out her feelings on said invitation, too. If she kept thinking, her brain would honestly explode, and she’d be floating up to the heavens free from the bindings of earthly madness. Sometimes she felt that that’d be a better alternative to whatever she was doing now. She didn’t know what to do. Maybe talking to Malfoy would clarify some things, she decided.

 …

Draco woke up from his nap hoping Granger was done obsessing and ready to talk to him. They really had to evaluate their relationship. He was beginning to worry about the fact that he disliked being away from her for too long, that he looked forward to every moment he got to spend with her, and that during his nap, he dreamt that he was kissing Granger. He had woken up smiling and feeling lighter and less burdened than he’d had in ages. When was the last time an ex-Death Eater woke up smiling and untroubled?! He was confused.

Suddenly, he heard a loud crash and mumbled swears. He scrambled out of a bed and got himself to the living room. There, he found a very awkward looking-Granger, glancing at him sheepishly, with an uncomfortable look on her face.

Draco was bewildered. Was he still in a dream? Had his hopes actually come true? “ You only left a few hours ago…did you leave something behind? How did you even get back here?!”

Granger let out a few awkward chuckles. “Uh, well I guess your wards recognize me now since I’ve been here…it wasn’t that hard to just apparate. And uh, I suppose I just wanted to…talk.” She finished, lamely.

“….Talk. You want to talk.” Draco spoke slowly, as if he were speaking to someone who didn’t understand English, as though he were trying to convince himself of the words she was saying.

“Er, yes.”

Draco couldn’t say that he did not want this. He absolutely had hoped that Granger would find her way back to him and they could talk about the ridiculous situation they had found themselves in, like _adults._ But now that the situation was upon him, like the coward he was, he wasn’t ready to face it. He just hadn’t expected her to show up the same day, barge into his apartment, and cause chaos. He didn’t know why he ever hoped for the best when Hermione Granger was involved. “Well, alright then. I’ll go make some tea,” he said, conceding.

She nodded, and followed him to the kitchen, wringing her hands.

He put the tea kettle on, and turned to her. “So, how much does it really matter to you, whether I think you’re pretty or not?” he asked with a smirk, trying to break the ice.

She glared at him. “Don’t be difficult. I came by to thank you for taking care of me. You’ve been a really good friend to me since we started working together.”

A curious thing happened to Draco at that moment. His heart clenched. He did not understand why. Nothing that she had said was particularly offensive, it was quite nice really. So why was his heart clenching, his stomach dropping, and his brain feeling like a thousand pounds in his head? He pulled himself together to respond, “Oh of course Granger. It was no problem at all, really. Was happy to do it.”

“I really appreciated your kindness. You didn’t need to do what you did. And you know, thanks for sticking by me these last few months. It’s really nice to have someone I can converse with in the office.” She added on, starting to sound like she was rambling. 

“The feeling is mutual, Granger,” Draco replied, with what he hoped was not a strained smile. What was making him feel this way? What was it?! He started to have the horrible feeling that he wanted to be more than just _friends._

…

Even as Hermione said the words “friend” and “appreciate” and “converse with,” she knew she was spewing out utter bullshit. She knew somewhere in her heart, however much she was trying to tamp it down, that there had to be something more to this than just a simple friendship. She wouldn’t go through all this effort if he were just a friend.

She stammered on. “I hope you enjoy my company as much as I enjoy yours.” Wait, what? Had she just…now she sounded like she was fishing for compliments, didn’t she? This was an absolute nightmare. She was going to die on the spot.

Draco, to his credit, seemed quite unfazed by whatever was coming out of her mouth. He quirked his mouth up into a half-smile. “I do.”

Hermione’s stomach somersaulted. What were all these _feelings_?! What did that mean? Why did she suddenly want to melt?! And now, for some strange reason, Hermione felt emboldened by…something. Maybe her sense of self-preservation had flown out the window because it wasn’t like she had much dignity left. And anyhow, she had so many questions for him and always felt too self-conscious to ask any of them. Well, he’d seen her at her worst, and now, she decided, he owed her the same.

She looked at him in the eyes. “Look, you saw me at one of my most vulnerable places. I’m not going to answer any questions about them because I think you can figure it out for yourself. You now know things about me no one does. I want the same from you.”

Draco looked very, very uncertain— _seriously when had she started calling him Draco?—_ and she didn’t even expect it when he answered, “All right then. What would you like to know?”

…

Draco was stressed. Why had he said yes? What would he have to talk about? He was starting to breathe funny. He hoped she wouldn’t notice. For Merlin’s sake, what had happened so intangibly last night that changed their relationship and his feelings towards her so irrevocably?! What were these _feelings?!_

“So…what’s the real reason you decided to leave your parents?” Granger asked, not meeting his eyes anymore.

He paused. “What makes you think I lied?” he said with a dry chuckle.  

Granger simply looked at him. “Well?”

“It was mostly what I told you. I needed to do something for myself, with my own talent, for once. Not following some madman into delusion or trail Father like a lost puppy. And to my horror, Mother is still trying to forge a union with Pansy Parkinson. Merlin forbid. But between the two of us, I don’t even think Pansy’s into men!”

Granger laughed out loud. “Okay, fine. How did you…you know…stop hating people like me?” she had trailed off at the end of the question. 

Draco felt as uncomfortable in that moment as he imagined Granger did. “Well. When you’re a notorious Death Eater, and find yourself having lost a war you didn’t really want to be a part of in the first place, you begin to…well, people begin to hate you. And it’s been years, Granger, that people have spent spitting in my face when they see me, calling me names while I stand right next them, essentially antagonizing me, I suppose. It hasn’t been very fun. And I used to do the same thing to you. And you didn’t even have any choice in the things I was so cruel to you for. But I had a choice, my family had a choice, and we made the wrong one. So now I’m trying to be better.”

“Ah,” was Granger’s very well thought out response.

“Yeah.”

 …

Hermione was silent for a moment. She hadn’t expected so much honesty but couldn’t stop the warm, airy feeling in her heart, that he trusted her enough to talk so freely. “Well, um. What do your parents think of your…uh…new mindset?” She asked.

“I don’t think they really care about anyone’s parentage anymore as long as I’m not embarrassing them.”

Hermione smirked at that. “So I’m not embarrassing, am I?”

“I think you’re quite far from my parents’ definition of embarrassing, really. Maybe a little overbearing,” Draco responded wryly. 

“So it’s totally fine that we’re friends?” she asked.

He spent a little too long trying to find an answer. Hermione panicked. She tried to hide it. She really didn’t want to confront that fact that perhaps she wanted to be a _tiny_ bit more than friends. Just a little bit. His lack of an answer was beginning to feel like it was physically weighing her down.

“Oh. I see. Co-workers then. Just co-workers,” she amended, doing her best to mask the hurt that flashed in eyes.

“NO! No! I mean…uh…” Draco trailed off awkwardly.

“What, Malfoy?”

“Look… we’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time together recently…and maybe…I don’t know? We could start spending a little bit less time together in the office and a little more…in a…I don’t know…a nice restaurant…maybe?” Draco was stumbling over words haphazardly, and rapidly turning red. Hermione had never seen him like this. She was beyond delighted. 

“Draco Malfoy…are you trying to ask me out?” 

“No? Maybe? Uh, yes?” Draco was well and truly frazzled now.

Hermione laughed, and decided to put him out of his misery. “Do you…do you perhaps want to be my date to Ron and Susan’s wedding?”

When he, nearly enthusiastically, answered, “Yes!” his face breaking into an open smile, and Hermione felt as though she was flying amongst the clouds. She smiled back, finally remembering what it felt like to be content again.  

_Fin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! As always, leave a review if you liked or you didn't. Much love :)


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